


this is your heart (can you feel it?)

by uhuraprime



Series: What Terrifying Final Sights [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Child Soldiers, Childhood Friends, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Pre-Slash, Substance Abuse, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:19:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhuraprime/pseuds/uhuraprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winona Kirk is a lot of things. She is a mother. She is a widow. She is a coward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is your heart (can you feel it?)

**Author's Note:**

> I found this on my computer and thought it was worth posting. Might write a K/S fic in this universe sometime, because in my head they fall in love later on.

Winona Kirk is a lot of things. She is a mother. She is a widow. She is a coward.

Jim is a good boy. Occasionally reckless, yes, but he cares for his mother. He does what she tells him. He makes sure she’s taking her meds on time, and he lies to the social workers when they come knocking. The only thing Jim asks of his mother is that she let him see the stars.

Jim has been talking about Starfleet for eleven years. For eleven years he has stared out the window of their tiny Iowa farmhouse, blue eyes – just like his father’s – wide in awe. He eats, sleeps, and dreams constellations. Jim spends hours upon hours leafing through his father’s old books on star systems (and, really, would it kill the kid to use a PADD like everyone else?). He is memorizing. He is planning.

It scares Winona.

It scares her like nothing else.

Because Winona loves Jim, and Jim is so much like his father. He is smart. He is passionate. Even though men weren’t meant to fly Jim yearns for the feeling. Jim yearns for the freedom.

Winona can’t let him have it, because she is a coward and he could get hurt. He could get killed. For all the sacrifices she’s made raising her son Winona can’t bring herself to make this one - to let Jim leave her when he’s old enough. She can’t even bring herself to imagine her little boy joining Starfleet, becoming a captain, sacrificing his life ‘for the greater good.’ She’s made the mistake once. She won’t do it again.

They returned to Iowa after George’s death because it was quiet. It was far from Starfleet. It was far from danger. Winona likes Iowa. She’s always liked Iowa.

Yet still, isolated as their little Iowa home is, Winona is itching for a change of scenery. It’s been eleven years and sometimes she still thinks she sees George in the kitchen drinking his coffee. She hears him singing in the shower. She smells his scent in the pillow resting on his side of the bed. She is haunted by his memory, and Jim is growing more and more like him every day.

It’s driving her insane.

 

They arrive on Tarsus IV two weeks before Jim’s twelfth birthday. Jim doesn’t seem to know how to feel about it.

For one, it’s exactly what Jim’s been yearning for. He spends three whole days in a state of pure awe, taking in the new view from his bedroom window. The stars no longer look the same to him. Their stories no longer make sense. It is confusing and exhilarating all at once. He tells Winona this, smile bright and wide, and her heart swells at the sight of it.

Behind that smile, though, there is a considerable amount of uncertainty. Jim can’t enlist in Starfleet here. Jim can’t make his dreams come true on Tarsus IV. He doesn’t say this. He’d never say it. Jim is reckless, yes, but never with Winona.

After twelve years Jim doesn’t have to say what he’s feeling for his mother to know, and as he crawls into her bed that night – the way he used to do when he was younger, after he’d had a nightmare – she kisses his forehead and whispers a litany of, _IknowIknowIknow,_ into her son’s forehead.

Winona Kirk is a coward, and she’s sorry.

 

Jim has never been good at making friends. For one, he’s always been above his peers academically. He’s intimidating. He’s also got a big mouth and he isn’t afraid to use it.

Winona would never ask her son to stop being passionate. She would never tell Jim to be anything other than himself. Still, as she cradles her son’s head in her arms and presses a cool towel to his split lip, she can’t help but wish he weren’t so much like his father. She can’t help but wish Jim wanted to be a doctor, or an author, or _anything_ other than a Starfleet captain. She can’t help but wish her baby boy weren’t so brash, so rough and confident and ready to pick a fight. It would save her a lot of trouble. It’d save her a lot of grief.

“They called me a hick,” Jim mumbles, looking up at his mother with wide, glassy eyes. “They told me the reason I’m so different is ‘cause you married your cousin. They told me I’ll only ever be able to date the farm animals. I couldn’t let them get away with it.”

“Now Jimmy, you know that’s not true, don’t you?” Winona coos, pressing a kiss to her son’s forehead and running a soothing hand down his back. “You know none of it’s true?”

Jim nods, offering a sad smile. “Of course, Ma.”

“You can’t let them get to you,” Winona says, planting one last kiss on her son’s cheek before pulling away from him and tucking him into bed. “If they know they’re bothering you, they’ll never stop.”

“They’re never gonna stop either way,” Jim mumbles, curling in on himself and pulling the blankets even closer to his body. “They never do.”

“Well, if they do it again I’ll call all their mothers and have a word with them about the things they’re teaching their kids,” Winona assures her baby boy as she turns out the lights.

“No!” Jim all but screams. “Ma, you can’t. It’ll only make it worse.”

Winona Kirk is a coward. She’s a mother, she’s a widow, and she’s scared. As horrible as it is she wishes her son could be normal, because maybe then he’d stop being bullied. Maybe then he’d stop putting himself in danger and spending so much time dreaming about the stars. “I promise I won’t,” Winona sighs, closing her eyes and pausing for a moment. “Good night, Jim.”

“Night, Ma.”

 

Frank’s good to them. Really, he is.

He’s got a job. He doesn’t make much, but it’s enough. He doesn’t hit her. He doesn’t drink too much. He likes Jim well enough, though they have little in common. The same can’t be said about Jim’s feelings for Frank, but that’s to be expected.

Frank doesn’t care that Winona’s still in love with her dead husband. He doesn’t care that she goes a little crazy when she looks at her son. He doesn’t care that she complains too much about how Jim looks more and more like his father every day. Frank’s a warm body to hold her at night. Frank’s her rock. Frank loves Winona. Winona doesn’t love Frank.

How could she?

How could she ever love anyone after George? How could she begin to forget about the man, when he haunts her every day? They’d come to Tarsus IV for a change of scenery but everything is the same.

It’s selfish of Winona to use Frank like this, but then again she is a coward.

Maybe she could learn to love Frank.

Maybe she could learn to forgive Jim.

Maybe she could learn to move on from all this.

(Probably not.)

 

It’s becoming harder and harder for Winona to look at Jim. He’s growing more and more like his father every day. He’s thirteen now, and he’s already taller than she is. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to take it when he’s an adult. He could be George’s twin.

“How’s the baby, Ma?” Jim asks when he comes home from school, and he sounds happier than usual. Winona wonders if he’s met a girl. She hopes to God he hasn’t.

“Great,” Winona says, using a hand to rub her pregnant belly. She doesn’t offer to let Jim feel the baby because she is a coward, and she’s afraid it’ll remind her of the way George used to talk to her pregnant belly when they were in their quarters on the _Kelvin_ , drumming his fingers on the skin separating him from his son and singing songs he’d learned from his own mother. “How was your day?”

“I made a friend.”

Winona stares blankly at a wall just behind Jim’s face. “A friend? That’s great,” she says, and it pains her to know that she’s let it come this far. She can’t even bring herself to see the joy on her son’s face as he tells her about his new friend.

“His name is Spock,” Jim explains, and the name’s a bit odd. “He’s a Vulcan.” _That would explain it._

Winona isn’t prejudiced. Really. She isn’t. Still, she’s never heard of a Vulcan making friends. It just isn’t done. She tells Jim this, and he merely smiles.

“Well this one’s my friend,” Jim assures her. “He’s really quiet and he doesn’t smile much, but he made Finnegan stop bullying me.”

“Yeah?” Winona says, turning away from Jim and to grab her PADD as she tries to decide what to have for dinner. “And how’d he do that?”

“I don’t know what he said to the guy, but whatever it was Finnegan nearly peed his pants.”

Winona smiles, not daring to look up from the PADD as she speaks, in fear of getting lost in those baby blue eyes. “That’s great, honey.” And it is. Jim has never been good at making friends, and Vulcan or not this Spock character seems like a nice kid. Still, Winona wonders what a Vulcan child would be doing on a place like Tarsus IV. Vulcans are a very private race. She’s met only a few of them – maybe one or two – and she can’t imagine any Vulcan in their right mind settling in a place like this. It’s nice enough, yeah, but the people here lack discipline. They’re illogical. They’re passionate and loving and sad and sometimes angry, too.

They make rash decisions. They bully sweet teenagers from Iowa who don’t really deserve it. They fall in love with these boys’ mothers, though they could never have those feelings returned. They start families with the wrong people. Some of them are cowards who see their dead husband’s face when they look at their sons.

How could a Vulcan child grow up in a place like this?

 

Amanda Grayson is a wonderful woman. Winona fails to see how any man, Vulcan or not, would dare hurt her. Would dare use her humanity against her, merely pretend to love her, and break her heart. How could any man condemn his child for being half-human although that is the precise reason he chose Amanda as a mate in the first place?

Winona understands why Amanda left. She understands why her friend deserted a life of luxury in favor of life on Tarsus IV. Much like Winona she wanted a fresh start, but Earth was just as much a prison to her as Vulcan had been. She knew that her son Spock would be ridiculed on either planet, on Earth for being half Vulcan and on Vulcan for being half human. She had been drawn to the planet just as Winona had. They understand each other in this way.

That being said, there are a lot of things Winona doesn’t understand about Amanda. She doesn’t understand how the woman could fall in love with a Vulcan, so impassive and logical. She doesn’t understand how Amanda could’ve been fooled into thinking Sarek loved her back. She doesn’t understand how Amanda looks at Spock, so Vulcan in appearance, and manages to see anything other than the man she misses so dearly.

Winona doesn’t understand how Amanda stays so strong, and yet she herself is such a coward.

Another thing Winona doesn’t understand is the way Amanda looks at Jim. It’s a fond sort of gaze, with a knowing glint in her oh-so-human eyes. Amanda has the prettiest smile, and she seems to have a special one reserved just for Jim. A look of reassurance. A look of approval.

“Do you think the boys will be home soon?” Winona asks as she fingers through Sam’s hair. He’s two now, and Jim and Spock are both fifteen. The two of them are nearly joined at the hip, despite the fact that they spend half their time fighting with each other. Winona would think Spock were one of Kirk’s bullies, if it weren’t for the way the two of them always find each other after a fight. They don’t hug, or cry, or even apologize really. Kirk just looks up at his best friend, eyes wide, and Spock gives him a curt nod. Things go back to normal. It’s their way.

Sometimes, it seems, Amanda forgets that she isn’t on Vulcan anymore. She’s always surprised by small talk, like she’s been conditioned to stop assuming the people around her care enough to listen. Winona can see why Vulcans would find such things illogical, but it irks her to think her friend was so changed by the man who manipulated her. Envious as she is of Amanda’s bravery, Winona cares about the other woman. Sometimes she really wants to rip Sarek’s head off. And she’s never even met the guy.

The way Amanda looks up at Winona, like she’s surprised that her friend is asking something so illogical, makes Winona’s heart drop. The boys are home around the same time everyday. Why would she bother asking such a question? Amanda seems to think someone is going to utter these words, but of course Spock isn’t here and there’s no one else around to do it.

Winona wonders if maybe, just maybe, Amanda’s seeing her husband’s ghost, too.

 

Winona is going to die. She knows this. She knows it the second she sees the light escape Frank’s eyes as he falls to the ground, blood pouring from his chest and creating a pool around his limp body.

She is going to die. Her sons are not.

Winona is a fast thinker. She looks at the child in her arms, barely two years old, and then at the teenager beside her. For all he looks like George, Jim’s the best she’s got. Frank’s dead, but even before that Jim had been the most important thing in Winona’s life. He’d kept her alive, all those years on Earth. Kept her out of trouble before there was someone else to do it for him.

They run through their cramped home, Winona trying (and failing) to cover her baby’s ears so he can’t hear the gunshots. She doesn’t have enough hands to do the same for Jim, but then again he’s always had to grow up fast. She hears a loud crash from the room next to them, and realizes whoever shot Frank must be making his way inside.

Winona knows she isn’t going to make it. She looks at Sam, frozen with fear in her arms, and lets out a quiet sob. He’s such a good baby. He never cries. She’s going to miss him. “Take him, Jim.”

“Ma, what are you talking about?” Jim says, eyes wide, and Winona shushes him immediately.

“Not so loud. He’ll hear us,” she breathes, gesturing towards the other room where the crash came from. “If you stay here he’ll kill you. Let me distract him.”

Jim shakes his head but lets his mother hand over his baby brother, tears pooling in his eyes as he gazes at Winona. “Ma, you can’t.”

“I can and I will,” Winona whispers, flinching as she hears another crash, closer this time. They don’t have much time. “I’ve been waiting so long, Jim. I’ve waited fifteen years to see him again. There’s nothing left for me here. Frank’s gone.”

“But Ma, you’ve got Sam, you’ve – you’ve got _me_ ,” Jim chokes. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Of course it does, Jimmy,” Winona breathes, using the name only she’s allowed to call her son. “But I’m not meant to live for you two. I’m meant to die for you.

“Go, Jim. Go find Amanda. She will take care of you.”

Winona all but shoves her son out the back door, letting out a loud sob and letting her feet guide her into the place where the crashes are coming from. A man is standing there – no, a boy. He can’t be much older than Jim. He’s got a gun in his hand, eyes wide with fear, and when he sees Winona he freezes.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” he croaks, pointing the gun at Winona’s head.

“No you’re not,” Winona denies, voice strong. “You’re not sorry, because he decided to _keep_ you.”

The sound of the bullet rings in her ears, and the last thought Winona Kirk has is this: _Maybe I’m not such a coward, after all_.

Then there’s nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! I really like writing short little fics from the POV of characters who may not otherwise get a whole lot of attention, and I thought it'd be fun to write about some smaller characters in slightly different ways than they're normally depicted.
> 
>  
> 
> Constructive criticism (or just general commentary) is always welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading :)


End file.
